Zero-G (26 page)

Quain drove slowly through the crowded area, occasionally having to break for careless pedestrians. The road led to two upright concrete posts set in the ground. The posts were twenty feet apart, and a thick chain hung between them. As they approached, a uniformed guard stepped into view, unhooked one end of the chain, and dropped it to the ground so that the car could pass.

Free of wandering enthusiasts and cars looking for parking places, Quain pressed the Lincoln forward, making easy progress to the large hangar next to the administration building. The car stopped a few feet from the front door and Quain exited quickly to open the door for Tuck.

“A man could get used to this,” Tuck said. “I don't suppose you'll be doing this for me every day.”

“That would be up to Mr. Roos, Commander, but I doubt it.”

“I appreciate the ride, Edwin. I can see why the admirals liked to have you around.” Tuck shook Quain's hand.

“Thank you, Commander. I'll have the pleasure of returning you to the hotel when the mission is done.”

“So what do you do now, Edwin? Do they have other exciting work for you?”

Quain grinned. “I help with security. Sort of the plainclothes guy. A couple of hours from now, I'll leave to pick your family up and escort them to the VIP staging area.”

“Don't let my daughter convince you that she can drive — or my son for that matter.”

“No worries, sir. I'll take great care of them.”

Odd man.
Tuck moved from the car to the hangar.

TWENTY-FIVE

L
ance Campbell stood beneath the wing of
Legacy
, a large cup of coffee in his hand. The steam from the drink danced in the cool air of the hangar. As Tuck entered, he caught the cold gaze of his fellow astronaut. Dark eyes glowered at him from an even darker brow. He stood as tall as Tucker, but his shoulders were several inches wider, his arms thicker, and his temper thinner. The African-American gazed at Tuck for only a moment, then returned his attention to the sleek exterior form of the
Legacy
.

Legacy
hung in its launch position, suspended from the belly of
Condor
, its own underside hovering four feet above the concrete floor. The launch platform was better than twice the size of
Legacy
, and its bulk took up most of the hangar. To Tuck,
Condor
looked like a mother bird carrying one of its young for its first flight.
Legacy
could not take off without the help of
Condor
, which would carry it along the runway and high into the air. On its return,
Legacy
would extend its own landing gear and make its homecoming to Earth all on its own. The sleek, powerful-looking aircraft still impressed him. He doubted he would ever grow bored of its sight.

Standing with Lance was a short man with gray tinted hair and facial lines that declared he had seen a great deal of life. Jim Tolson was a likable man, quick with a joke and a pat on the back. He spoke with a twang that revealed his Alabama upbringing. Jim served as the pilot for the
Condor.
Like Lance, he wore the custom-designed flight suit that Ted Roos had commissioned from a New York design firm: long-sleeved, dark blue, a half a dozen pockets on sleeves and legs, and a large flight patch over the left breast. The patch featured an image of a flying desert condor and a handful of stars. Above it, stitched in gold thread, were the words, “SpaceVentures.
Legacy One
, Seizing Tomorrow.”

Tuck approached, his footfalls echoing in the cavernous hangar.

“Good morning, gentlemen.” Tuck's voice reverberated in the room.

“Well, look who's here all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.” Jim Tolson extended his hand and Tuck shook it. “You ready for today's big to-do?”

“I was born ready, Jim. What about you? I know you Air Force guys need a little extra time.”

Jim laughed. “You just better hope I don't remember that crack when we are more than fifty thousand feet above the planet. An old man like me might forget to flip the right switch or something, and where would that leave you?”

“Taking over, as the Navy always does.” Tuck gave Jim a slap on the shoulder. The good-natured digs had become part of their friendship.

“Then we're all doomed.”

Tuck turned to Lance and gave a nod. “Morning.”

Lance made a point of looking at his watch. “Glad you could make it, Commander. I was preparing to make the flight by myself.”

Tuck felt his jaw tighten. “As much as you would like that, Lance, you're stuck with me. Once again I suggest we make the best of it.” He paused. “Or do I need to make that an order?”

“You may have held a full grade more than me in the ser vice, but that carries no weight here.” Lance took a sip of his coffee as if he'd said nothing more than good morning.

“Look, Lance, I know Roos recruited you before me and I give you some degree of seniority, but he chose me to pilot this mission, and I'm going to do it. His reasons are his own, and if you have a problem with that, then take it up with him.”

Lance cast Tuck an icy stare. For a moment, Tuck felt the room chill. He took a step closer to Lance. “You've carried this grudge far too long. It's your privilege to carry it as long as you wish, but I will not let it interfere with the mission, nor will I let it become a factor that may endanger the lives of innocent people. Lose the attitude, pal, and lose it now. When we're back on the ground safe and comfy, you can choose to say whatever you want about me, but not until then. Clear?”

This time Lance took a step closer to Tuck. Not more than two feet separated the men. Tuck kept his relaxed and poised stance, but Lance tensed, one hand clenched into a fist.

Tuck held no desire for confrontation, but he had been selected to lead this mission and to do so properly required command authority and unquestioning obedience from those under his leadership — even if there were only two people answering to him.

Jim Tolson stepped between them and put a hand on each of their shoulders. “Now look at you two, standing here all up in each other's faces like two male elk buttin' heads over some doe.” He lowered his voice, and Tuck felt the hand on his shoulder squeeze hard. “Take it easy, boys, and listen very carefully. Here's the deal: you know as well as I do that any one of us can pull the plug on today's flight. Those are the rules Roos set up. What that means is if I don't think you two can get along well enough to make this flight a success, I can sink the whole thing right now. I'm hoping you won't call my bluff, but don't think for a moment I won't do my job.”

He lowered his arms and put his hands in his pockets. “Now, I'm not asking that you gentlemen sign up to send each other Christmas cards, but I am insisting that you put any bad blood in the past and leave it there — at least until everyone's back on the ground. Understood?”

Tuck nodded. “I'm good to go.”

Lance pursed his lips, then said, “You'll get no problem from me, Jim.”

Lance took a step back and raised the coffee cup to his mouth, his eyes tracing every inch of Tuck's form. Tuck knew that Lance would like nothing more than to go a few rounds with him. The copilot turned, started to walk away, then stopped and returned his attention to the two men. He looked at Tuck. “Roos wants us suited up and in his office in fifteen minutes to go over who's going to say what at the press conference. Time to get out of your civvies . . . pal.”

Tuck surrendered a small smile. “I'll be there with bells on.”

Lance walked away.

Jim let out a long, noisy breath. “For a moment there, I thought I was going to have to play referee. I don't know what he has against you, but he's carrying a pretty big chip on his shoulder.”

“We've had problems for years. Even in the astronaut corps, he made a point of sitting at the far end of the table whenever we were in the same room. Now that rank doesn't stand between us, he seems to feel freer to say what's on his mind.”

“Tell me true, Tuck, are we safe to go on this mission? I don't want you guys coming to blows in the cockpit.”

“Nothing to worry about, Jim. Lance can be a royal pain, but I've never known him to be anything other than professional on a mission.”

“The question is serious. Would you put your mom on this flight?”

“If she were alive I would, Jim. I'm not eager to die, and I certainly won't let it happen over something as silly as hurt feelings. I've had all the crises in space that I want.”

“All right, if you say so, but remember, once I cut the latches loose you two are on your own. You carry some pretty wealthy cargo in the back.”

“They're people, Jim, but I know what you mean. I also appreciate the way you handled things. I'm glad you're riding topside for the first part of this mission.”

“Glad to be of help. Now go get suited up.”

The meeting with Roos started on time. Tuck and Jim walked over from the hangar to the administration building and joined Roos in his small office. Lance was already there and seated in the chair most removed from the door. Roos sat on the corner of his desk dressed in black pants, black belt, and a black shirt. Thrown over the back of his office chair rested a black blazer.

On the outside, Roos gave every indication of being calm and collected. But his eyes flashed, and his words poured out in a torrent.

“The engineers have worked through the night checking everything from top to bottom,” Roos said. “They told me they have every confidence that things will go as planned.
Legacy
and
Condor
are as good as we can make them, and today we put them to the real test.” He stood and paced the small room. “This is what it's all been about, gentlemen. This is what I have spent millions on, this is what I have collected millions in donations for. We are on the leading edge of the future, and I want all of you to know how much I appreciate your work. Each of you has brought to the project what no one else could. I don't know how to express my gratitude.”

Jim raised a hand as if he were a schoolboy. “I could use a new yacht.”

Everyone but Lance laughed, and even he cracked a smile.

Roos leaned over the desk. “In a few minutes, guys, the media will come through the doors of the hangar and see for the first time what
Condor
and
Legacy
are all about. They will see the future of spaceflight. They will see the birth of a new industry in the commercialization of space, and they will have lots and lots of questions. I can think of no better men to give answers than you three. Here's how we'll play this: In precisely twenty-three minutes, I will bring in the media as a group. We have people from the major networks, radio stations, print media, and news magazines. We even have representatives from several nations here.

“I understand that you were in the hangar not long ago, and if so, then you saw the staging area where the press conference will be. Once the media has had time to shoot footage, take pictures, and jot down notes, I'll gather them in the seating area that we've provided. I'll say a few words, and then I want each of you to say a little something. Keep it short and to the point. Think sound bites. Small sentences.”

“Dumb it down, you mean.” It was Lance.

Roos shook his head. “Not at all. I would avoid high-end jargon; just speak as you would anywhere else. After that we'll throw it open for questions.”

“What about the passengers?” Tuck wondered.

Roos smiled. “I plan to bring them in after the media has had an opportunity to ask their questions of you. I'll introduce each one and then ask if there are any more questions. Of course there will be.”

Tuck asked, “How are our passengers doing? Anyone trying to back out?”

Lance answered quickly, “They are more resilient than you give them credit for, Commander. I was in charge of training them, and each one has shown a high degree of intelligence and courage. They will be nervous, but I doubt we'll have any screaming fits or panic attacks.”

“That's good to hear,” Jim said. “But then again it's not really my problem. I ride up alone and I ride back alone — just the way I like it.”

“I didn't realize you were so antisocial, Jim,” Tuck said.

“I'm not antisocial; I'm just . . . well, antisocial.”

Roos took charge again. “I will make sure that the press conference is over no later than eleven o'clock. After that, it'll be time to go through last-minute preparations with the passengers, then on with the flight suits. As planned, you'll enter the vehicles while they are still in the hangar and be towed to the runway. None of that is news to you since we've covered this repeatedly. I want to reiterate, however, that the tow to the runway will be slow. I want to give the media all the time they need to photograph the event. You know all the checks you need to do during that time, so use the minutes wisely. It will also give the chase planes time to get in position. As you know, cameras will tape everything, inside and out. I know I said this a thousand times, but we are making history here, and I want every moment digitally recorded.”